Lolli's Escape
by Seizure-On-Demand
Summary: Vanellope wasn't the only one in Sugar Rush who found King Candy's reign unbearable. The dreamy, bookish NPC Lolli believes that there is more to life than sitting in the stands and watching races all day. She discovers that the price of freedom and happiness is high, but she's perfectly willing to pay it, if it means an escape from a corrupt game.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Wreck-It Ralph.

* * *

_Super Mario, Litwak's Arcade, 2012. _

* * *

"Mrs. Shelley? A letter for you."

The lollipop woman's head was bent over her desk as she scribbled fervently on loose-leaf paper. "Thank you, Claire," she said without glancing up. "Leave it in the inbox."

The Toad girl did so, though not without trying to sneak a glance at what her mistress was writing. Claire, like the rest of Super Mario, tingled with excitement at the prospect of another astounding novel by Mrs. Lolli Shelley, who possessed the natural ability to ensnare readers and hold them until the last page. Claire usually tried to respect her mistress's privacy during her long and gruelling writing process, but at times her great curiosity got the better of her, as it did presently.

"Is it going to be like _The Trophy King?_" Claire blurted out without thinking. Lolli Shelley stopped writing to look up at her maid.

"I certainly hope not," the lady writer answered coolly. "A novelist who writes the same book twice can't be called anything other than lazy."

Claire reddened and nodded awkwardly. "Right…" She felt so foolish. She loved her employer's books, but she knew next to nothing about how they were produced.

Seeing the girl's embarrassment, Lolli mustered a maternal smile. "My dear girl, it is my wish that you like my new book as much as _The Trophy King_, but they're not going to be very similar. If they are, then I've failed you."

Lolli paused to take a sip of tea. She hadn't even glanced at the letter in her inbox yet. "Claire, please tell Maud that Mr. Shelley and I are expecting company for dinner tonight. It's only two people. Caprese salad and a fish stew would be nice. Perhaps pudding for dessert. It's not a formal dinner, so nothing too fancy."

Claire nodded understandingly. "Very good, ma'am." The maid knew for a fact that the request for pudding was for the sake of the sweet-toothed Mr. Shelley and the guests and that her mistress was not going to take a single bite of whatever dessert was served that night. Lolli Shelley, though made of sugar, never ate dessert. She didn't even take anything sweet in her tea.

The bookworm maid left the office to pass on her mistress's message to the cook. Once she was gone, Lolli smiled with dry amusement. "Like _The Trophy King_ indeed," she thought. "If it were up to my readers I'd never write an original novel ever again. They all want repetitions, but with different names and places. But where's the fun in that for _me?_"

Two days ago she had received a letter from King Bowser's daughter Wendy, asking if her new book was going to be a continuation of_Rosewater Castle _or _Midnight in the Pumpkin Patch_, the Darklandian princess's favourite Gothic romances by the crafty Mrs. Shelley. Lolli, unfortunately, had nothing more to say about those books and the colourful characters that inhabited them and had to send Wendy a very disappointing reply, though she did include a wicked little poem of her own devising that she hoped would bring a smile to the princess's face. Others were begging for sequels from her as well. Her own husband had even hinted slyly that he wouldn't mind seeing more of the comically unlucky protagonist of her_ Lord Billfort_, for whom he had a special fondness.

The truth of the matter was that Lolli simply did not want to write sequels. She thought of her novels as her children. She raised them, sent them out into the world, and never tried to interfere with them after that, because she had guided them into maturity as far as she could without rupturing the delicate line between _too little_ and _too much._ If her readers decided that one novel in particular was their favourite, they had to be content with what they were given, because by the time one novel was finished, Mrs. Shelley was already plotting a completely different one. She was a fertile storyteller indeed.

"Now, where was I?" the mother of words asked herself as she returned to her work. The young child heroine of this tale was being chased through a crowd by a masked creature as fearsome as the boogeyman. How would she escape him? "By using her wits, of course," Lolli said aloud. "His own folly helps sabotage the capture as well." She began to scribble again.

Around noon Claire came back in with lunch on a tray and noticed that Mrs. Shelley had not touched the letter. "It, er, might be important, ma'am," the bold maid dared to point out.

Mrs. Shelley waved a hand dismissively without looking up. "All in due time, Claire."

"But ma'am, it's from your old game. It's from Sugar Rush."

Lolli froze, the tip of her pen pressed against the page. "Sugar Rush?" Her gaze flickered suspiciously upon the letter that had been sitting ignored and untouched in her inbox for almost two hours.

Claire was correct. The letter _had_ come from the racing game she'd abandoned eleven years ago after marrying John Shelley. There was Sugar Rush's stamp in the corner, that little sugary crown that made her stomach turn as the unpleasant memories came flooding back.

* * *

_Sugar Rush, Litwak's Arcade, 2001._

* * *

Lolli sprinted as fast as her stick legs could carry her. The Random Roster Race was going to begin in five minutes and she was already supposed to be in her assigned spot on the bleachers where Taffyta Muttonfudge's fans sat. Tucked under her arm was her copy of _Anna Karenina_, the cause of her lateness. She'd been so absorbed in the tragic life of Tolstoy's misfortunate Russian aristocrat that she had lost track of the time and would now once again have to face her fellow citizens' scorn for her bookish and absentminded ways. Becoming an avid reader had made her a terrible racing spectator.

"But how can I put my heart and soul into cheering for Miss Muttonfudge when fictional characters demand my attention with better cause?" Lolli asked herself as she ran. There were many Sugar Rush citizens to cheer for Taffyta Muttonfudge, but poor Anna Karenina only had her for support.

She stopped for a second to catch her breath and noticed the frightful state of her bright pink dress, which was wrinkled and dusted with powdered sugar, which must have accumulated on the fabric while she'd been sitting and reading in Pastry Plains. In vain she tried to quickly brush it all off with her hands while holding her book between her legs, but the white powder just wouldn't stop clinging to her. "Oh well," she said aloud after giving up and retrieving her book from its awkward position. "They'll take me with extra sugar or they won't take me at all."

She heard the roar of a motorcycle engine and she spun around to see Officer Wynchel coming towards her on his motorcycle. He was alone, which was odd because he and his partner Duncan were usually attached at the hip. The doughnut cop pulled up next to her and she gave him a friendly smile.

"Is there a problem, officer?" she asked in a playful manner. Out of all the people who resided in Sugar Rush, Lolli liked Wynchel best. Unlike the others, he didn't give her a hard time for her interest in books, though he_did_ scold her quite often about all the times she'd missed the opening ceremonies for the daily races because she didn't put much effort into being prompt.

"Lolli, you _do _realize that the Random Roster Race is starting, like, right now?" Wynchel, along with everyone else, wished that Lolli would take her role as a spectator more seriously. He imagined that Taffyta wasn't going to be pleased by one of her fans showing up late and looking like a mess. Didn't Lolli realize that she was going to get in trouble one of these days, or was her head too high up in the clouds?

"I am quite aware of that fact, thank you," Lolli replied with mild sarcasm. "That's why I'm running towards it."

"You're not going to make it in time if you run," Wynchel told her. "I'll give you a lift, but just this once. Hop on."

Lolli gave a little laugh. "Wynchel, I can easily—"

"Lolli, _get on the bike._"

Taken aback by his aggravated tone, Lolli rather reluctantly climbed onto the back of his motorcycle and wondered why he even bothered to help her if he found her so irritating. She held onto him tightly as he drove at full speed towards the starting line. When they arrived, King Candy had already finished his speech and the racers were entering the lists, tossing their gold coins onto the catapult like horseshoes.

Wynchel parked behind Taffyta Muttonfudge's fan stand and shooed Lolli off his bike. "Don't be late tomorrow," he warned her.

"I can't thank you enough," Lolli said, and she really meant it.

"You can thank me by doing the job you were programmed for," Wynchel snapped. "Get up there and cheer harder for Taffyta than all the others."

He drove off without another word, and Lolli quickly ascended the stairs and slid onto her seat. The other lollipops, seeing the book in her hands and her soiled dress, rolled their eyes and whispered amongst themselves that Miss Lolli the Bookworm was about as useful to this game as Vanellope the Glitch.

"How about instead of watching the race, we have Lolli read out loud to us instead?" One of them suggested meanly, and the others laughed.

"What does she have there? A book on how to flirt with cops for free motorcycle rides?" Another asked, as if Lolli wasn't sitting right there. "Can I borrow it?"

Lolli turned around to face her insulter. "This book happens to be one of the best novels ever written and no, you may not borrow it." She clutched it against her chest protectively.

Before the lollipops could say anything else, the race started and they all had to focus their attention on watching it and cheering as loudly as they could. Lolli tried her best to appear interested but she itched to open her book instead and continue from where she left off. The race looked like it was going to have a very predictable outcome, with King Candy and Taffyta in the top slots and one recolor just barely making it onto the roster as usual. It all seemed very repetitive, like reading a series of books that followed a single strict formula. Races were supposed to be wild and exciting, but Lolli found that she was very bored indeed.

The race ended as Lolli had guessed it would, and as soon as King Candy had received his first place trophy she darted down the bleacher stairs and made a run for it before anyone could stop her. She wasn't quite sure where she was going but she knew that it had to be somewhere quiet where she could read in peace. Peppermint Forest seemed suitable enough. She headed towards it.

She had settled down into a comfortable spot beneath a tree when she heard the roar of an engine again. She sighed in frustration. What had she done wrong _now?_

Wynchel parked in front of her and she stood up to face him. "Am I missing a bonus race or something?" she asked.

"I came to warn you that Taffyta noticed you in the stands and complained to His Majesty," Wynchel told her, his stern tone laced with genuine concern. "She said that she doesn't want her fans looking like something the devil dogs chewed up."

"Quite an impressive simile," Lolli remarked. "Miss Muttonfudge surprises me."

"Lolli, for mod's sake, this isn't a joke!" Wynchel cried exasperatedly. "You're one of our top racer's fans! You have to look like it! You have to_act _like it! We all have a part to play—"

"The glitch doesn't," Lolli pointed out. "No one demands _her_ attendance at the races."

"That's because she's not important."

"Then I envy her. I think there's some joy to be had in not being important. No one cares where you are or how pretty your clothes look. Such bliss."

"Lolli, don't say that," Wynchel pleaded. "You don't want to be a glitch. _I _don't want you to be a glitch. I want you to not get in trouble! Why do you have to read every single minute of the day? Can't you control yourself so you can be a good NPC as well?"

"I would," Lolli confessed. "But I really have no interest in being a good NPC."

Wynchel sighed and shook his head. "When are you going to face reality?"

"When it's less dull and bleak and actually worth facing," Lolli shot back. "Until then, I'll turn and face the opposite direction."

"You're an NPC whether you want to be or not," Wynchel reminded her sharply. "And you have a job to do whether you like it or not. It's King Candy's law. Do you think I enjoy every minute of being a policeman?"

"I thought that perhaps you enjoy the perks," Lolli said, pointing at his beautiful motorcycle.

"Trust me, it's not always worth it," the doughnut cop admitted. "But it's the life the programmers gave me and I live with it. And you have to live with what the programmers gave you. There's nothing else to hope for, Lolli. Stop pretending that there is."

* * *

_Super Mario, Litwak's Arcade, 2012. _

* * *

A Koopa man with square glasses stepped through the front door of his house, holding a bouquet of red and pink roses in his hand. Claire went to greet him. "Welcome home, Mr. Shelley. Shall I put those in a vase for you?"

John Shelley took off his hat and placed it on a hanger. "No thank you, Claire. They're for Lolli. I'd like to give them to her myself. Is there any mail?"

"One letter for Mrs. Shelley, sir. I've given it to her already. She's reading it right now."

"A fan letter, I suppose? She's been getting a lot of those lately," Mr. Shelley remarked with a proud grin. "Everyone's thrilled about her writing a new book. You know that her publisher's coming to dinner tonight?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Shelley's ordered dinner and Maud's gone out to buy fresh fish for a stew. Also, um, Mrs. Shelley said that there will be _two_ people for dinner?"

"Ms. Turret will be bringing her lady friend," Mr. Shelley announced. "And yes, I mean _that_ kind of lady friend. It's the twenty-first century. Who are we to judge how others lead their lives?"

A door opened, and Mr. Shelley and Claire turned to see a very stunned-looking Lolli step out of her office and into the hall, clutching a letter. "Oh mod…" she whispered, loud enough for her husband and maid to hear.

Mr. Shelley handed the flowers to Claire and went over to his wife. "My love, what happened? What distresses you?" he asked anxiously.

"I got a letter from Wynchel," Lolli explained, holding the paper in her hands as if she couldn't believe it was real.

"Wynchel?" her husband echoed. "Wynchel from Sugar Rush?"

"The one who loved her," Claire thought, remembering the rumours she'd heard about her mistress's former life.

"He sends you a letter _now?_ After eleven years without a single word?" Mr. Shelley exclaimed incredulously. He shook his head. "Well, what does it say?"

Lolli looked down at the letter and swallowed hard. "It says that Sugar Rush has reset and everything there has changed," she recited. "King Candy was a usurper all along and now he's dead and gone. Long live President Vanellope von Schweetz."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two!

* * *

_Sugar Rush, 2001._

* * *

"I _live_ for Sundays!" Lolli exclaimed to Wynchel on a Saturday night while they were strolling down the path that led to Sugar Square, where most of the game's shops were. "Sundays, Sundays…what would I do without Sundays?"

They were an odd-looking pair, he with his serious policeman's stride and her in her flouncy rose pink dress and the bounce in her step. As usual, she had a book in her hand, while the other swung a basket with a pink ribbon tied around it that almost matched her dress. The people who saw them together found it hard not to snicker or smirk. The height difference between them made them look even more comical.

If Wynchel was embarrassed, he didn't show it on his face. He was off-duty and there was no reason for him to be escorting Lolli to the market square except for simply wanting to do it. He was becoming more protective of her lately, since the others were becoming more vicious. Lolli had redeemed herself in King Candy's eyes for her carelessness several days ago by showing up to all the following races on time and in a clean dress, but her fellow candy people wouldn't let her forget it, nor would Taffyta Muttonfudge.

"If you want to look like a slob then you can watch the races from the shadows with the glitch where no one can see you," she'd spat at Lolli that day. "I don't want you in my fan stand if you're not going to dress properly."

Lolli shrugged it all off in her usual way but Wynchel knew what such a warning meant. Lolli had done well for the rest of the week but if she didn't keep it up, she was in danger of being demoted to the sideline seats or, worse, banned from the races altogether. Wynchel felt duty-bound as her friend to keep a close eye on her and make sure that didn't happen. He also tried his best to spare her from the kind of abuse inflicted on Vanellope von Schweetz on a regular basis, but there was only so much he could do.

"Are you going to go to Super Mario again?" he asked. For the past two months Lolli had been spending her Sundays in that game, leaving Sugar Rush on her own at seven-thirty in the morning and not coming back until curfew at ten. She'd started that routine as soon as she discovered that the Mushroom Kingdom's capital Toad Town not only had three bookshops but also an enormous public library with an art gallery and a café attached to it. The game also had some of the most beautiful walks in the arcade. Only Sugar Rush could rival its scenery.

"Of course!" Lolli stopped by a fruit stand to inspect the peaches for sale. "I wouldn't _dream _of spending my day of freedom here. There are never any new people to talk to or things to see. There's nothing to do! It's endless boredom for a NPC like me."

"Lolli, you shouldn't say things like that," Wynchel warned her. "It's treason."

"But it's true!" Lolli insisted, though more quietly. She turned to the candy citizen behind the fruit stand. "Three peaches, please, and four of those yummy-looking plums."

"I wish you wouldn't keep going out on your own," Wynchel told her after the fruit was paid for and placed in her basket. "You what King Candy says about—"

"Yes, yes. His Majesty is very wise to encourage the buddy system, but it's awfully inconvenient for someone like myself, who has no friends in this game except you," she interrupted.

"I'd go with you, but I'm on duty all day tomorrow. King Candy wants Duncan and me to find out where the glitch has been hiding."

Lolli laughed. "If you think you're ever going to catch her, you're wrong."

Wynchel's lip twitched. "We _will _catch her."

"I think not."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she's quick and clever and you and Duncan never think outside the doughnut box."

The cop sniffed and pretended that she hadn't just wounded his ego. "Then how does Miss Lolli Smarty-Pants suggest we catch her?"

"I suggest you leave her be."

Wynchel sighed and pushed up his sunglasses to rub his eyes. "I've explained this to you already, Lolli. She's trying to _race._ If she does, she'll break the game. We need to know where she is at all times."

"Do you realize how foolish you sound?" she asked him like a concerned parent. "You and everyone else in this game are _obsessed_ over that child. It's like a sickness. It's ridiculous! Leave her alone and just enjoy being alive once in a while. Come with me to Super Mario tomorrow. John Shelley is giving a lecture and there's going to be a party afterwards."

"Who's John Shelley?"

"He teaches at Toadstool College and wrote _The NPC Perspective _and _Floating in the Lava Moat_. He also tutors King Bowser's children," Lolli explained. From the blank look on his face, she could tell that he didn't care much about any of those facts. "Everyone in Toad Town is going…at least the ones who like literature."

"You'll fit right in then," Wynchel remarked. "But I can't go. Really, Lolli, I would if I could, but I can't. Promise me you'll stay near people you know and stay safe."

"I'll only promise that if you promise _me _that you'll let me say 'I told you so' when you and Duncan don't catch Vanellope von Schweetz tomorrow."

Wynchel smiled and shook his head. "You're something else, but I promise."

Lolli smiled back. "Then I promise too. Don't worry about me, Wynchel. I'll come back to Sugar Rush in one piece."

* * *

_Super Mario, 2012._

* * *

As she stood in her dining room watching Claire set the table for dinner, Lolli wondered how different her life would have been if Wynchel had accompanied her to Super Mario that Sunday eleven years ago. If he had been at her side like a bodyguard during the lecture and the after-party, would she have still met John and been inspired by him to pursue a writing career? Probably not. "Wynchel would have made me leave early," Lolli said aloud.

Claire, who'd been carefully folding the napkins, looked up in confusion. "Ma'am?"

"Nothing, Claire. I'm just talking to myself." Lolli looked at the beautifully set table with John's roses arranged prettily in a crystal vase and inwardly sighed. If only Wynchel's letter with its ground-breaking news had come the day before or the next day. She would be able to think of nothing else during this very important dinner, on which the future of her next novel depended.

John swept into the room then, having washed up and changed into a clean shirt and sweater vest. He saw that Lolli was still wearing her plain red day dress and smiled worriedly. "Aren't you going to change, my dear? They'll be here in half an hour."

Lolli turned to him, revealing her own worried expression. "John, I don't know if I can do this."

"We agreed that we would forget about the letter tonight and deal with it tomorrow. You have your book to think about now," he reminded her. He gently took her tiny hands in his claws and kissed them. "The Lolli I know wouldn't crumble like this."

"The Lolli you know thought she'd left a bad game. The Lolli I am abandoned hundreds of people to the mercy of a tyrant and a criminal," Lolli replied. She shut her eyes and shook her head. "I can feel myself crumbling, from guilt."

"It's not your burden to bear," he assured her.

"I could have done _something._"

"I wouldn't have let you. King Candy would have killed you if you tried."

"Turbo," she reminded him. "His name is Turbo. There is no King Candy. There never was."

John shrugged. "Turbo, King Candy, it doesn't matter. He's dead now and you, my love, are very much alive. Are you going to let him drag you down again, this time from the grave? When we got married you swore that you'd never waste another thought on him or on Sugar Rush for as long as you lived!"

Lolli smiled weakly. "I _do_ remember making such an oath."

"Then stick to it! Put King Turbo out of your mind tonight and be the dazzling Lolli Shelley you always are. Tomorrow we'll see what there is to be done about Sugar Rush and your Wynchel."

Lolli sighed and surrendered. "Alright, John, I will, but please don't call him _my_ Wynchel. He was never mine. I've never owned anyone except the characters in my books."

"And they are lucky to have you as a guardian. Speaking of which, Ms. Turret's going to want a title for this new book," John reminded her. "Have you thought of one at last?"

Lolli paused for a moment. "_The Triumphant Glitch_, I think," she said off the top of her head. "Now, my love, if you'll excuse me, I must go change for dinner." And she left him.

* * *

_Sugar Rush, 2001._

* * *

At seven-thirty in the morning, when everyone was still in their beds, Lolli crept out of Sugar Rush with a backpack stuffed with enough cake and fruit to last her all day. She was tingling with excitement. Oh, how she loved Sundays! Anything could happen on a Sunday!

On her way to the game's exit she spotted Vanellope von Schweetz in the distance, climbing a peppermint tree. Remembering her conversation with Wynchel, she smiled.

"Don't let them catch you," Lolli warned the girl in her mind. She'd only seen the glitch a handful of times during the four years Sugar Rush had been plugged in, since she was almost always in hiding. Lolli would've brought her food and some blankets if she knew where she lived, but King Candy would certainly have her followed and they would both get caught and thrown in his castle dungeon. There wasn't much that Lolli could do for her.

"Don't let them catch you, Vanellope," Lolli thought. "I want to make fun of Wynchel and Duncan later. I'll rub your victory in their faces. I promise."

Vanellope's head turned in her direction, as if she'd heard her. Lolli, seeing her chance, took off her backpack and spread out all the food she'd packed on a towel. She figured that Vanellope needed it more than she did, and she could always buy something to eat in Toad Town. She waved at the glitch and pointed at the food. When she was certain that Vanellope had seen her, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and darted out of the game.

The cake and fresh fruit was a feast to Vanellope. As she greedily stuffed her face, she wondered how she could thank the nice lollipop lady without getting caught by King Candy and the fuzz. She also wondered where the lollipop lady needed to be so early in the morning.

"Somewhere important," Vanellope guessed with a shrug. When she finished eating her Sunday brunch, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and heard the roar of Duncan and Wynchel's motorcycles coming from far away. She quickly glitched out of sight and began to run, taking Lolli's towel with her. The chase was on.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three.

* * *

_Super Mario, 2012_

* * *

Lolli's publisher, Jennifer Turret, arrived promptly at the Shelley house for dinner with her new girlfriend Alice, an exquisitely pretty Toad girl, in tow. Lolli liked Jennifer but found her loud and enormous presence intimidating at times, which was why she usually needed John's help to do business negotiations for her books (he often joked that he was a better literary agent than a writer). John called Jennifer Turret the Gertrude Stein of their game. A friend of Lolli's once called her "everyone's weird but cool aunt." She insisted that everyone call her Jenny.

"Come in, come in," John urged the ladies while Lolli forced a smile. She was thinking about Wynchel's letter and her manuscript for _The Triumphant Glitch_ and was beginning to believe that perhaps what she'd written so far wasn't what she wanted to show her publisher after all.

"Johnny, Lolls, how are ya? It smells good in here," Jenny remarked.

"Maud made stew," Lolli said distractedly.

Jenny grinned. "And what about you, Lolls? What have _you_ made?"

"We'll discuss that at dinner, Jenny," John cut in quickly. "Claire will take your coats."

* * *

_Super Mario, 2001. _

* * *

Whenever she visited Super Mario, Lolli found herself wondering why Sugar Rush didn't try to be more like it. Super Mario game was a hundred steps ahead of Sugar Rush in how tolerant and accepting its inhabitants were of each other. King Bowser and Princess Peach were on very friendly terms and their kingdoms followed suit. The good guys and bad guys mingled everywhere in the game, and the modernistic Mushroom Kingdom capital was especially welcoming to Bowser's minions.

Lolli looked around Toadstool College's crowded dining hall and saw Toads, Yoshis, Koopas, Goombas, Shy Guys, and Boos laughing and chatting in groups. There were also many visitors from other games, but Lolli was the only guest from Sugar Rush. She felt like an ambassador of some sort. She was representing her game at the arcade's cultural scene, and the thought pleased her immensely.

It was wonderful to see and catch up with all the friends she'd made in Super Mario during her Sunday visits. Many of them had been present at the lecture and stayed for the party afterwards. There was Patty, a Toad who worked at a diner in town and frequented the public library often (she had an appetite for science-fiction novels). She'd joined Lolli for cappuccinos on several occasions and they always had lengthy and pleasant conversations. There was Martin, an older Goomba who always joined Lolli for her usual early Sunday morning walk through the city park (his doctor had recommended that he take long walks more often). There were a lot of the people she'd talked to at the bookshops, which were always good places to make interesting acquaintances. With her at the moment were old, lively Mr. Portobell (the owner of The Jolly Scribe, Lolli's favourite bookshop) and his equally old and lively wife Mrs. Portobell. The couple doted on Lolli as if she were their granddaughter and were perpetually baffled by her not having a husband or boyfriend in Sugar Rush.

"I am not their idea of a treat and they are not mine. I am utterly incompatible with the men from Sugar Rush." She didn't dare tell them about Wynchel. Wynchel was not her suitor, but if she mentioned him to the Portobells they would insist that he was.

"A young, pretty, smart girl like you should be compatible with everyone," Mr. Portobell said with a mouth half-full of hor d'oeuvres.

His wife scolded him for not chewing and then turned to Lolli with a smile. "The people in your game just don't see what a jewel you are, dear. I'm sure that soon you'll meet someone who will."

"If I'm a jewel, then someone is going to steal me from Sugar Rush, not just look at me. I can assure you that the security there is terrible," Lolli retorted, and her friends laughed.

There was one person at the party that Lolli would have liked to chat with but her own inhibitions prevented her from doing so. John Shelley had given a brilliant lecture that evening on the progression of the modern novel and he'd surprised everyone by focusing more heavily on female writers than male ones, due to his own belief that women exceeded men in the field of fiction. He'd joked to his audience that his idols Jane Austen and Virginia Woolf would have found his _Floating in the Lava Moat_ to be a complete disaster and that he would've happily accepted their biting criticism if it got a better book out of him the next time he tried. "Alas, those splendid ladies weren't programmed into this game. Luckily for us, their books were."

Lolli had listened to him ardently throughout the lecture and mulled over how unfortunate it was that King Candy's speeches didn't captivate her like this. Her job as a racing spectator would feel far less tedious if they did. In fact, she would very much prefer to see John Shelley up on the royal podium every day instead of the king. Though he wasn't exactly handsome, John Shelley had a captivating voice and charms that made people believe that he was. At the after-party there were many men and women who wanted to talk to him and some of them had intentions that were not entirely scholarly. Lolli herself couldn't stop sneaking glances at the fascinating intellect whenever she had a chance.

As Lolli observed John Shelley throughout the evening it became clear that he had no taste or talent for petty small talk and that he preferred to skip the whole messy business and move straight to topics of interest. He dived into a discussion with full gusto if it was about literature, philosophy, history, or politics but if it was about something that wasn't related to academics his mind seemed to go elsewhere. He would stare absentmindedly into his wine glass as if he were trying to unlock some secret about the dark vintage red and then snap back to attention as soon as someone namedropped some author he'd read or some fact he had extensive knowledge about. His conversation was almost like a fine wine itself, preserved for important occasions, bottled up the rest of the time.

Lolli desperately wanted to talk to him but, for the first time in a while, she felt shy. She feared that she was an inadequate conversationalist and that the distinguished intellectual John Shelley would not be impressed by her unsharpened wit or her lack of formal education. He tutored royalty, wrote books, and gave lectures to the public while she sat on a bleacher seat all day long, wasting many precious hours of reading time and letting her mind turn to mush. What could an insignificant racing spectator possibly say to John Shelley that would hold his attention for more than thirty seconds? She could hardly describe the races to him. She barely paid attention to them. She could try offering her opinions on his _The NPC Perspective_ and _Floating in the Lava Moat_, but what if she'd misunderstood what he'd been trying to express and said something stupid?

Trying to engage him in conversation would be a hopeless venture and could only lead to her making a fool of herself. There was really no point in trying. So she watched him from a distance and chattered with the Portobells while enjoying the free food. The old couple teased her about her having a crush but it was easier for Lolli to endure teasing than the humiliation that would ensue if she tried to talk to John Shelley.

Around nine Lolli had to say farewell to her friends and leave the party so that she could make it back to Sugar Rush before curfew (the Portobells extracted a promise from her that she would have lunch at their house next Sunday, which gave her something to look forward to). After picking up her belongings from the coat check, she stepped outside the college and hesitated for a few moments.

"I don't want to go back to Sugar Rush," she inwardly wailed. She loved Super Mario. The people here understood her and her passion for books. If she had been programmed for this game she would've been the happiest girl in the world, but fate was cruel and she was bound to a game where everyone (even Wynchel) thought she was strange and worthless, hardly a candy citizen at all except for her looks.

She pulled _Anna Karenina_ out of her backpack for the familiar comfort of having a book in her hands. During the week, novels were her Super Mario. They were her only escape. What would she do without them?

She ran her fingers across the book's spine, relishing its smooth, hard texture. She opened the book and brought it up to her nose so that she could inhale the scent of its pages. It instantly made her feel better. If this smell was a perfume, she would wear it.

"Intoxicating, isn't it?"

Lolli jumped and turned around to find John Shelley (who'd come outside for some fresh air and a break from the guests) smiling at her. If lollipops could blush, she would have turned crimson red all over. Her whole body stiffened in embarrassment and nervousness and she couldn't think of a word to say, just as she'd feared. What made matters worse was that they were alone and there was no one around she could turn to for help.

"I'm not judging you," he assured her. "I do the exact same thing when I get my claws on a new book. Or an old one. What do you have there?"

"A-Anna Karenina." She almost pronounced the name wrong. She would've died if she had.

"Anna Karenina!" John Shelley exclaimed excitedly. "Mod, I haven't read that in ages! What a book, though. How do you like it?"

He wanted to know what _she_ thought of Tolstoy's masterpiece? Lolli swallowed hard. "I-I think…no, I _admire _Tolstoy for, um, showing the hypocrisy of the world exactly as it is…without trying to force the readers to accept a certain set of morals. It's like a photograph. No alterations made."

"Like a photograph…yes, that's _exactly_ what it is." He took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. "I remember thinking that it all felt very natural and real."

"I haven't finished it yet," Lolli admitted. She was relieved that she'd managed to say something that sounded intelligent to him.

"Then finish it you must, Miss…" He paused, and then laughed. "It's very much like me to lead a lady into a discussion about books before even knowing her name. Please forgive me for my rudeness. What is your name?"

"I'm Lolli," she told him. "From Sugar Rush."

He stepped forward to take her hand in his claw and bring it to his lips. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Lolli from Sugar Rush. I'm John Shelley."

"Yes, I know," Lolli replied, her hand tingling where he'd kissed it. "I loved your lecture. I…I love your books."

* * *

_Super Mario, 2012. _

* * *

"Thank goodness I got into playwriting," John joked to the dinner guests as they indulged in the delicious, spicy fish stew that the Shelleys' cook had made. Maud and Claire had already cleared the appetizer dishes. "Novels are Lolli's trade. There's no doubt about that."

Lolli, whose mind kept wandering to unsavory places, looked up from her bowl and smiled at him. "Stop being so modest, my love. _Floating in the Lava Moat_ is a gem."

"It didn't sell nearly as well as _The Trophy King _did," he reminded her. "That's because you're the superior writer and everyone knows it."

"If only we could get a sequel out of you, Lolls," Jenny said as she tore off a hunk of bread to mop up the remains of the stew in her bowl. "Think of all the copies _that _would sell!"

"I have thought of that, but I've failed to think of a plot for a sequel, because there isn't one," Lolli replied. "The king's reign is_ quite _over. There's nothing else to say about him."

"Lolli's 'no sequels' rule is sacred," John reminded Jenny.

"Unless it's for _Lord Billfort. _In that case_, _you would gladly have me break it," Lolli pointed out. "But I shall not."

"Well, let's talk shop about this new one. So you want to call it _The Triumphant Glitch?_" the publisher asked.

"Yes. I think it's…an appropriate title."

"It'll cause a bit of a stir," Jenny remarked. "But that might not necessarily be a bad thing. How soon can you have the manuscript done?"

"I've written twenty-nine pages so far and I haven't been suffering from the horror that is writer's block lately, so I can safely estimate that I'll have it done by August."

"That soon? Mod, Lolls, you're a powerhouse," Jenny complimented her. "Good thing, too. You know that Princess Peach's librarian has already asked me how soon he can pre-order a copy of what you're writing? No turning back now, kiddo."

"I can't wait to read it," Alice piped up. "What's it about?"

"It's about a girl, and the man who becomes her friend because he feels sorry for her," Lolli answered. "But the girl doesn't want anyone to feel sorry for her. That's not her nature. She wants freedom, a chance to prove herself. She wants to be like everyone else but perhaps a little better. She hides behind sharp words because they're all she has at her disposal to fight against others. She's alone in her world but there are many people outside of it who can love her. She gets everything she deserves in the end. She…she gets…" Lolli paused. "I-I'm sorry, everyone. Please excuse me."

Lolli abruptly got up from the table and left the dining room, leaving her guests and her husband in a state of worry and confusion. She went straight to her office and locked the door behind her. Fishing Wynchel's letter out of a desk drawer, she frantically read it over again.

Eleven years ago, after she'd gotten married, Wynchel had sent her _one _short letter that had only asked if she was okay. She'd sent him a long reply in which she'd pleaded for him to be kind and merciful to Vanellope von Schweetz. After that she never got another letter from him…until today. There was no mention of him having followed her request. There was only the news that Vanellope was ruling the game now.

There was a tap on the door. "Lolli?" asked John's anxious voice. "Is everything alright?"

No, it wasn't. Nothing would ever be alright for Lolli again unless she fixed the mess she'd made. She shoved the letter back into the drawer and picked up the in-progress manuscript for _The Triumphant Glitch._

"Lolli?" John tried again. "Lolli, please open the door!"

"Everything's fine, John," Lolli lied. On the other side of the door, John heard the sound of paper being torn.

"Lolli, what are you doing in there?!" he cried, banging on the door. "Lolli!"

A minute later, Lolli opened the door and stepped out. Behind her, the shredded remains of _The Triumphant Glitch_ were scattered all over her office floor.

John's mouth dropped open. Jenny and Alice soon appeared in the hallway and saw the mess, and they were shocked and horrified as well.

"I have some bad news," Lolli announced to the others. "I won't have _The Triumphant Glitch_ done by August after all. The way I've been writing it is all wrong. Tomorrow John and I are going to Sugar Rush for a visit and after that I'll start writing the real story."


End file.
